


Language Lesson

by nondeducible



Series: Domestic Tales [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3729499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nondeducible/pseuds/nondeducible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo learns a very important word in Khuzdul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Language Lesson

Thorin shut the door to the King's Chambers with a tired sigh. He only had a short break before the negotiations with Dale and Mirkwood started again, and by Mahal did he need a break. Bilbo was most likely in the library or, if Balin had any sense in him, running interference for the Dwarves and visiting Elves. Bilbo's diplomatic skills seemed to be the only thing keeping some of these negotiations on track, no thanks to the animosity from both Dwarves and Elves. The dragon may have been slain, the battles won, and debts settled, but old wounds take time to heal.

It was with a slight surprise then that Thorin heard pacing and muttering coming from the private sitting room, just beyond the antechamber doors. He crept up to the doors carefully and as quietly as he could.

Bilbo's irritated voice could be heard through the slightly open doors, and although Thorin couldn’t see him, he could imagine his slightly frantic pacing, arms clasped firmly behind his back, forehead creased in annoyance. Thorin risked a peek into the room and caught a glimpse of Bilbo staring down at a piece of paper as if its very existence perplexed him, and muttering something under his breath. Bilbo put the paper down on his writing desk and looked up to the ceiling with a sigh.

“Get a grip, Bilbo Baggins. You know a bit of Sindarin, this shouldn’t be too difficult.” Bilbo shook his head and chuckled at himself. “Oh, don’t ever mention comparing Khuzdul to Sindarin, you’d get kicked out of the mountain with nothing but your smallclothes.”

Bilbo sighed again and started pacing once more.

“Right, right, let’s try this again.”

What followed were a series of that sounds more like violent coughing and choking. Thorin vaguely recognised a few words of greeting and what could have been a question about the weather but the rest of the garbled words were a mystery to him. And even though Bilbo was butchering his language beyond recognition, Thorin felt pride at his husband’s efforts.

“Oh, this is useless!” Bilbo threw up his hands in frustration. He walked back to his writing desk and picked up the piece of paper he was studying earlier. “Stubborn Dwarves, even their language is impossible!”

Thorin smiled to himself and was about to knock, alerting Bilbo to his presence, when Bilbo spoke again.

“Amrâlimê,” he said. Thorin's hand froze mid-air. “Amrâlimê, amrâlimê, amrâlimê,” Bilbo said again and again, practising the word. Unbeknownst to him he managed to say it correctly every time. Thorin felt the air leave his lungs, replaced by a rush of love and passion so great he could barely contain it all.

Thorin burst through the door, not bothering with subtlety or pretending he wasn’t eavesdropping, and made Bilbo nearly jump out of his skin.

“Thorin! Have the talks finished already? I didn’t anticipate you’d be back until lat—” the rest of the sentence was cut off by Thorin kissing Bilbo deeply and passionately. Bilbo recovered quickly from his shock and sunk his hands into Thorin’s hair, deepening and prolonging the kiss.

"Not that I mind a greeting like this," Bilbo gasped out when they finally parted. "But why did yo—"

“Say it again,” Thorin rasped out. He rested his forehead gently on Bilbo’s and ghosted another kiss over his lips.

“What? Thorin, I don’t—“

“I heard you, ghivashel, please say it again,” Thorin brushed his nose against Bilbo’s and moved his hands to cup the back of Bilbo’s head. Bilbo hesitated.

“Amrâlimê,” he said quietly into the space between them. “Thorin, amrâlimê.”

Thorin groaned and kissed Bilbo again, and again, kept kissing him until he forgot all about negotiations and trade agreements and Elves.

**Author's Note:**

> ghivashel means treasure of all treasures, amrâlimê means my love or beloved
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](www.nondeducible.tumblr.com)


End file.
